From Heaven Above: Sequel One Shot
by NerdAngel
Summary: A squeal to my Christmas story "From Heaven Above." The boys celebrate Chrsitmas in the Bunker.


**A/n: Alright, I had a request from a Guest to do a sequel to "From Heaven Above" where the boys celebrate Christmas in the Bunker.**

 **This takes place after "The Hunter Games" in season 10. I know that it aired after Decemeber, so it's sort of an AU if you go by the air date of the episodes.**

 **Thank you Guest for your request and review for FHA. I hope you like this sequel. Thank you LilyBolt, miXiZ, jojospn, and everyone else who reads, reviews, and/or favorites.**

All Is Calm

It's true, you can never predict the future and that's no matter rather you're living or dead. I thought surely the Christmas in Michigan was going to be the last one I got to witness both boys celebrating. I thought surely it would be Sammy only or maybe with another woman from here on out. I thought surely, Dean's last Christmas before he was taken to Hell would be his final Christmas forever. And for many years, I had been right.

Although Dean was brought back only four months after, my boys still hadn't celebrated Christmas since before the Hellhounds had come for him. The next time one did celebrate, it had been Dean with a woman and her son. Yet more years went by without Christmas and he had been taken from his younger brother twice again. First to Purgatory, then my little boy was stabbed and brought back as a demon. Sam himself had sacrificed himself to save his brother and the world. Since then, both boys had their ups and downs and my, have they exchanged some cruel words to one another. But that was mostly in the past, thank goodness for that. Now my eldest had taken up a curse to save the world and protect his brother and was currently battling the consequences with having taken on the Mark of Cain without listening to the disclaimer first.

Dean is glaring at himself in the mirror, something he seems to do a lot ever since he was cured from being a demon. It's not a gesture of vanity, rather of confirmation. It's as though he's hoping he can see in his eyes, his humanity. That it's still there, that he's still him and not the monster he had been. My heart breaks for him. He shouldn't have to go through this pain, no one should, but least of all someone as selfless as my boys.

Even after he hears knuckles wrapping on his bedroom door, he doesn't respond. However the instant the door opens after his name being called out, he spins on his heels away from his mirror and faces the intruder. My baby is standing in Dean's doorway, a scowl on his face which shows both my eldest and myself that he saw his brother's sporadic movement. "Hey Dean. You ok?" He asks in a calm tone.

"Fine Sam," he responds rather shortly. "Why'd you ask?"

"I just-" Sam stutters, trying to find a way to word what he's trying to say. He's been walking on eggshells around his brother ever since Dean snapped and murdered multiple men. No doubt my eldest was feeling awful about it, maybe disgusted with himself, scared for sure. I see that. It's another time, one of many where my little boy just needs his mother. He needs me to be there to tell him he'll get through this, that he's strong, that he's a good man, that he just needs to keep fighting it, that he's loved no matter what. But since I can't, I have to hope Sammy will. "Listen, Dean, I know it's been rough with Medatron and the-you know," he avoids saying the word he knows will make his brother wince. "But you've been locked in here for days."

"So?" Is Dean's short reply.

"So, if it's all the same to you, I could really use your help."

"With what?" With this curse and its gradual growth in strength, my eldest reminds me of a typical teenager. Locking himself in his room, not wanting company, being rather snappy with his brother. Sadly we all know it isn't hormones that are coursing through him, but something much more serious.

"Come on, I'll explain on the way." Sam starts to head out of Dean's room, turning to see if his brother is following him. Rolling his eyes and huffing, Dean mosesys out into the hall after Sammy.

Once they're in the study room, Sam stops and waits for him to catch up. As Dean opens his mouth, probably to complain, he instantly shuts it again.

Standing on top of one of the study tables, is a small pine tree much like the one he had surprised him with years ago in Michigan. A string of multicolored lights are twinkling bright while new car air fresheners hang off the small branches. Garland is wrapped around the chairs and bookcases, and little paper decorations of snowflakes, elves, reindeer, and a fat jolly Santa Claus are hanging with scotch tape off the bookshelves. Ella Fitzgerald singing "Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas" can be heard in the stunned silence. Slowly a smile starts to tug at Dean's lips and soon brightens his face. It's been too long since I've seen him look so content, so at peace, so calm. Sam's eyes are starting to smile and his own lips follow suit. Even in his thirties, that smile is still my John's.

"I know it's not much, I wanted to get a bigger tree, but the smaller ones are easier to swipe. Not to mention I thought this might be more...I don't know, homey," Sam shrugs. Dean turns to look at his little brother, a smile still in place.

"What's all this for?"

"I just figured that you might want to celebrate Christmas. I know maybe the timing isn't right, but I just thought-maybe it would be nice," Sam says simply. I can understand Dean's shock, hell, I was shocked. I thought I would never see my boys celebrate Christmas ever again, and here they were, initiated by Sam once more. Dean's smile slowly shrinks until it's gone.

"Christmas. Right." He says as though it was just dawning on him what day it was.

"Oh! Before I forget," Sam puts up his index finger as if to say "one second" and ducks down to pull two items that are wrapped in newspaper from under the table. "Merry Christmas Dean." He extends his long arms out with a present in either hand. Dean simply stares at them as though they may bite.

"Sam-"

"It's alright." After a few more seconds of staring at them and Sam encouraging his brother, Dean accepts the gifts. Now they're in his hands and he's staring at them still. "Last I checked, you can't open paper with your eyes," Sam jokes with a grin.

"I can't," my eldest mumbles trying to hand them back.

"What do you mean you can't? Of course you can, they're for you." Dean just shakes his head.

"No, keep'em." Sam's eyes are shining with sympathy as he gazes at his brother.

"Dean, look, just because you-" he stops himself and tries a different approach. "You're going through a lot right now, I know. But that doesn't mean you don't deserve anything. In fact, it's all the more reason that you do." Dean still doesn't answer, so my baby gives it one last go by using a tactic he knows my eldest can't ignore or turn down. He's eyes become orb like and glossy as they focus on his and two little words softly falls from his lips. "Dean, please?" It takes him a second, but Dean places one of the gifts on the table with a sigh and begins to unwrap the other. Normally, neither of my sons would force the other to participate in a holiday, but it was obvious what Sam's intentions were. For that, I couldn't be happier.

Dean laughs which pulls Sam's attention back to his brother.

"Oh, good times huh?" He chuckles holding up the same brand of rum Sam had used to make the alcohol induced eggnog when they last celebrated the holiday. My baby grins and nods. Dean places it on the table and picks up the other gift. Before he even has all the paper off, his smile returns. Sam looks at the item then back to my eldest.

"I figured that day I saw you watching them, you just looked so...carefree." Dean nods as his eyes dance around the DVD case that displays the Three Stooges.

"These are great Sammy, thanks."

"Yeah, of course. I'm sorry it wasn't more."

"You kiddin me? It's already too much. I didn't even get you anything," he bows his head as though he's ashamed. Which knowing my little boy, he probably is.

"Well that's not entirely true." Dean looks at Sam puzzled. "I'm pretty sure we have some eggnog left in the kitchen, what doya say we go crack open present number one, make us some popcorn and pop in present number two?" My eldest smirks at my youngest.

"I say, absolutely."

The boys venture into the kitchen where Sam gets to work on making the eggnog while Dean throws in the popcorn. Before either boy can finish, someone else steps into the kitchen. He looks confused as his eyes go from my youngest to my eldest.

"Cas?" Dean addresses the man. Well, he's not a man, he's an angel. I can assure you most angels are actually far from what I expected, probably what most people expect actually. But this one, Castiel, he's different. Over the years, my Dean has become best friends with the angel. Don't get me wrong, I have all the respect for him. He is after all the one who brought my little boy back, but I admit that I was slightly nervous. I know that seems terrible to say and as time goes on, he seems more and more devoted to both my boys, but he's still an angel. He still has what he sees is the right way of handling things and I'm not all on board with some of them. His outlook on the Mark and what to do with Dean, was one of them. But none the less, he's there for my boys at least 98% of the time. Not to mention he's the first best friend that my eldest has ever had. He needs someone, other than of course his brother.

"Hello Dean. How are you feeling?" The angel asks in a voice so deep and gravelly that it sounds like he gargles with asphalt.

"I'm alright Cas," he says. I see the angel's eyes, well his vessel's, shift over to Sam as if seeking confirmation that what Dean says is true. Sam nods.

"What about you Cas?" He asks, pouring some rum into one of the glass cups.

"I'm Fine." He responds. It's clear that Dean's ways have rubbed off on the angel. Castiel is having his own problems to deal with, as well as trying to help out my boys with Dean's situation.

"Pour the guy a glass Sammy," my eldest says as he reaches into a cabinet to pull out a large bowl. Sam obeys and retrieves another glass. "Come in Cas, we don't bite," he says.

"That's not true Dean. I'm aware that both of you are very capable of biting," the angel says, but he steps in anyways. Even after all these years, the angel still doesn't always get humor, but he has improved. As he approaches my eldest, he pulls something from his pocket that looks as though a child wrapped it. "I still don't know why it's custom to give gifts on December 25th, or why people say that Jesus was born at this time of the year. He wasn't," Sam begins to smile as the angel starts up one of his typical literal explanations. "But, here." He hands Dean the poorly wrapped gift, which my son stares at with a look of confusion once again.

"What brought this on?" He asks, having stopped working on readying the popcorn.

"Sam told me to come and bring you a present," the angel admits. Dean looks at Sam who shrugs, handing his brother a glass.

"Do you have one for Sam?" He asks.

"Sam didn't say to get him one. I assume he would have said so if he had wanted me to." My eldest looks back at the gift and then begins to unwrap it. "You do the wrapping yourself? Or did you pay a kid to do it for you?" Dean teases, glancing up at his friend.

"Why would I pay a child to wrap for me?" The angel asks with his brow furrowed. "Is that another ridiculous tradition humans share for Christmas?" Dean ignores his friend and finishes tearing off the paper. He glances at his gift, in a similar way a kid may look at having received a pair of socks for Christmas, while Sam has been forced to turn his back and pretend he's working on the drinks to hide his smile. "Do you like it? I hear it's custom for a man to get a tie." Alright I'll admit, the angel was rather adorable some times. It was like he was the wisest being one moment and than others, he was like an innocent little child. I have a feeling this is the first Christmas he has celebrated in human tradition. It wasn't like he knew that getting a man a tie was like getting a child anything that wasn't a toy.

Dean glares at his brother who is biting his lower lip as a means to keep himself from bursting into a laughing fit, then clears his throat and looks at his friend.

"Sure do," he says with a polite smile. "Thanks Cas." The angel's vessel's lips spread into a grin.

"You're welcome Dean," he says genuinely.

"You got the popcorn ready?"

"Just about. I just have to drench it in butter first." Sam shakes his head at his brother.

"Alright well, while you work on clogging our arteries, I'm gonna go get the movie going." With that my youngest was gone, leaving my eldest and the angel. "How are you Dean?" Castiel asks again.

"I told you Cas, I'm fine." Dean says as he pours a disgusting amount of melted butter all over the popcorn.

"Are you aren't feeling overwhelmed by the Mark?"

Dean turns to glare at his friend and I wish that Sam would have brought Castiel with him instead of leaving him with Dean.

"I'm fine Cas ok? I don't know how many times I have to keep tellin you-"

"I know that's not true Dean. It was getting stronger even before the massacre. You were concerned before, like you knew you were going to lose control. That's why you were talking to me in the diner after Claire ran away." Dean stops what he's doing and grips the counter tight, closing his eyes as though he's trying to calm himself.

"Hey," it's my baby to the rescue, relief sweeps over me as he re-enters the room. "Movie's ready. Waiting on you," he says. I see him look over at Dean and there's a hint of concern in his eyes, but he doesn't say anything.

"You can't rush perfection Sam," Dean throws back trying to sound playful returning to his task at hand. My youngest scoffs.

"It's popcorn Dean, not a piece of art."

"That's because you don't do it right," he retorts. With the popcorn done, Dean collects the bowl and follows his brother into his room where the movie is ready to go. Sam hands the angel a glass, and they settle onto Sam's bed where they spend the rest of the holiday eating popcorn, drinking Sam's eggnog, and submerging themselves in stupid careless comedy. Sam's right though, Dean does seem carefree and relaxed as he laughs at Curly accidentally smacking Mo with a plank of wood earning him a poke to the eyes. Sam starts to chuckle, although I think it's more because his brother is laughing than at the movie itself. The angel seems genuinely confused at all of it, but continues to shove popcorn into his mouth anyways with the occasion outburst at how what he was seeing was impossible.

Another Christmas not as I had envisioned all those years ago, but still one where my boys were together. I can't ask for much else, and I wouldn't. Not anymore. We all knew rough times lay not far ahead, but my sons were only human after all. I may be a bit biased, but more than anyone, my boys deserved a day to relax and take a break from their daily lives. What better way to spend it than surrounded by family and friends?

 **A/n: I hope you enjoyed this one shot sequel. Happy New Year!**


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